Battle Royale
by algie888
Summary: If you're reading this, then I suppose I must be dead. Huh. Always thought it'd end this way. Well, this is a peculiar, beyond-the-grave contact. This is not the story of how I lived, reader. This is about what matters. This is how I died. First HG
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well, here goes. My first Hunger Games fic. Just to clear any thing up - this is set directly after the Dark Days. Like, a month after it ended. **

**Disclaimer: I will, one day, write a book. And then write fanfiction about it. I may then say, _"Hey, suckers! I do own this!"_ But until that day, I don't own anything. **

* * *

_Terrified of what I'd be  
As a kid from what I've seen  
Every single day when people try  
And put the pieces back together  
Just to smash them down  
Turn my headphones up real loud  
I don't think I need them now  
Cause you stop the noise_

_~My Chemical Romance~_

_~Summertime~_

* * *

Prologue

* * *

_If you're reading this, then I suppose I must be dead. Huh. Always thought it'd end this way. Well, this is a peculiar, beyond the grave contact. This is not the story of how I lived, reader. Of my biggest, greatest, most amazing moments. This is about those moments that matter, the moments that genuinely mean anything to me. Which means this is the story of how I died. The whole thing. And it wouldn't be a proper story without a once-upon-a-time. So here goes._

Once upon a time, in a place not so far away, the most amazing place that you could ever live, the best district on the planet: District Four. In District Four, there lived many people. But, amongst those people, there lived a family who just seemed to have twins running in their blood. Twin, after twin, after twin. Always one girl, always one boy.

_That was a lovely beginning, wasn't it? Well, here comes the good stuff._

So, everyone in District Four was all happy. No one upset too often, unless it was over the price of fish.

Then the Rebellion sparked, sending waves of confusion and sadness across the whole of Panem. Children died, along with their parents. Youths lied about their age to fight in a war started by the people who made decisions they were told were for the youths' own good. It was ridiculous. The Districts were always destined to lose, it was obvious to see.

During those Dark Days, there was a girl running, brown hair cut short by a hangman's knife, face covered in a sheen of sweat. This was me.

I cursed loudly as my foot slipped over a rock, losing my footing on the precarious sand dunes. I tripped up over the tangled dry sea weed, but pushed myself off the floor without missing a beat. This wasn't a game. This was me running for my life.

I could see the ocean. If only I could just keep running until I reached the shoreline, and then dive in, they couldn't be able to catch me. I'd swim away like the little fish I was, and I'd be free. Maybe I could swim to one of those far-off lands in the history books, like the place of one thousand nights. Or maybe that was a fairy tale. In my battered condition, I could barely tell the difference between the two. Or maybe there wasn't one.

Then the gunshots blared, and I balked. They rang out behind me, swirling in with the cacophony of crashing waves. Oh, no. No, they couldn't stop me! I could feel damp sand beneath my feet, taste the salt in the air! They couldn't stop me just yet! Not just yet! In my panic I searched desperately for somewhere to turn, and my eyes lit up when I saw a small badger set made in the side of the dune, barely big enough for a child to fit. The wave of gunshots fired over me again, and I decided that it would have to do.

It was almost definitely too small for me, but the sand was wet and pliable, so I could make it work. The set was dark and comforting, almost cocooning in the dusky coloured darkness that surrounded me. I began to hope that there were no territorial badgers living here.

I was lying on my stomach, trident in a death grip. I had been hiding here for the past week, in my little hole in the sand. My little hide away. I could get food from the sea, water from the trees, and all the salt I could possibly want. I was set, ready to hide for the rest of my life. I just didn't count on the insanity that loneliness brought. Or the sadness.

I had been hiding for a good week, hearing the footsteps of romping peacekeepers overhead, their guns cocked and primed. My trident looked rather useless at the moment, just a rather big fork in the face of their Capitol weaponry. I missed my family, my brother especially. My twin was everything to me. We had that twin bond thing going on. The whole 'he's sad, I'm crying. He's happy, I laugh. He falls over, I laugh harder,' connection. But when he was hurt, I felt pain. And when he fell asleep, I nod off. Call it coincidence, but I don't want to know what will happen to him when I die. I'm not that curious.

I jolt upwards, gasping for breath. God. God. God. Where the hell am I? It took me a while for my eyes to adjust to the bright lights of the morning, and to be able to make out the familiar scenery of my bedroom.

Then the nightmare stops about there, typically. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later. But this is where I like it to stop, when I have the memory of family fresh in my mind. It's less of a nightmare, really, and more of a memory. Of course, that doesn't make it any less scary when I dream. I could taste the blood on my tongue as I probed the side of my cheek. The blood trickled onto my teeth, still oozing out from a mostly healed wound. Stupid bullet.

I could see the clothes I could wear already laid out for me by my brother. A dress in blue (Karp said it would bring out my eyes), with pockets galore and striped stockings to make me look more filled out. A cotton kerchief for my neck, and a matching sash to hold the skirt's thinning seams back to the top. Today I had to make myself look presentable. Make myself look pretty for the captors, like some whore at a party. Quite frankly, it was degrading. But it was the best we could do at the moment.

We had to look pretty for the Capitol today, because there would be cameras on us. This was some sort of annual thing that was about to happen - and I didn't trust it. Whatever this 'Hunger Games' thing was, it seemed sinister. Although, how bad could a game be, right?

I was half way through scrubbing the ash and dried blood from my face when my brother entered, a small basket in his hands. I took a peek inside, grimacing at the various ribbons. "Where did you get these? I thought that mother pawned them all for more ammunition."

He smiled at me, spinning me around so to see my brown hair. "She did. These were a gift from Eight, before they left. Nice, aren't they?"

I could feel the fabric sliding through my hair like an eel, and I smiled. "Yeah, real pretty, Karp," I murmured as I reached for the damp dishcloth, swiping at the ash again. The cracked, full length that sat in the corner of the room was the only thing I could use to gauge my appearance. So far, not too bad.

"There, all done," Karp said, patting the braid he'd done. That would be my twin - so similar, yet so different. I ran the boat house, he made the nets. I speared the fish with a trident, he wove the fishing lines. I wiped blood and ashes from my face, he braided ribbons into my hair. But we looked so alike it was barely possible to tell us apart. Before the Dark Days, father used to tell us we were little carbon copies, like those dolls you could get from District One.

I glanced at the mirror again, and sighed. I used to be a big girl, with long brown hair and tree trunk arms from all the swimming. But, since the food shortages, and the evacuation treks, the paramilitary drills, and all the running, I was as skinny as an eel, and just as slippery. My brown hair that I used to adore dangling into the water to tease the fishes was only just starting to grow back from the regulation crew cut. The blue dress that I had received for my birthday back when I was six hung loosely from my frame, and I needed several lengths of ribbon to keep the whole thing from just slipping off.

"Come on, Karri," Karp chided gently, steering me away from the mirror. He was a lot stronger than I was now, having been two weeks away from stepping up to the front line when the Dark Days ended. He was one of the lucky ones. He glances at the clock, and worried his worried blue eyes meet my matching ones (except I look more dazed, and slightly irritated), "Karri, we're going to be late!"

"Let's not keep the Capitol waiting," I agreed, "we wouldn't want to start a war, would we?"


	2. Chapter One

**A/N - And welcome to the Reapings! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!**

* * *

The whole District was in a state panic. Everything that had been solid in their old way of life was suddenly gone. The air raiding sirens that had been provided by District Three were heavily vandalised by red and yellow graffiti, the blackout shutters from District Eight were ripped to shreds; I think I saw some in a girl's hair earlier, and the bomb bunkers had been converted into rather nice bedrooms - the large locks on the doors were ideal for keeping toddlers out.

I swallowed noisily at the sight of all the people gathered in the square, their faces contrasting drastically to the Capitol's upbeat decorations. I supposed I looked just like them at the moment. I grimaced at the sight of blood on the streets, wrinkling my nose. I suppose no one had cleared up since the last public execution. Once the war had ended, the Capitol seemed to have decided that they had too much leftover ammunition. And so, they trotted about the Districts, killing off anyone whom they thought was disobeying the Capitol in any way. I saw a boy being shot in the head yesterday night for dropping a fish on a peacekeeper's shoes. The kid was about four, maybe five. No one was safe. You had to keep your mouth shut tight, and your eyes even tighter.

"Why do you think we're here?" asked a quiet voice by my side. I turned to her, raising my eyebrows. Shell Cresta, one of my best friends, was easily the prettiest girl in the District. Her parents were net weavers, and so she had fairer skin than the rest of us, as well as nicer hands. "They're not going to kill us, are they?"

I roll my eyes, and pointed to the stage, "I reckon they'd kill us with a bit less song and dance, don't you?"

She shrugged, "It's the Capitol. As if we'll ever know what they'd do," she murmured, and tugged at the hem of her dress. I pretended not to notice the fact it was considerably nicer than mine. "Ah, well. If I die, at least I'll be in my best clothes!"

"Don't joke about dying, Shelly. It's all too real," Karp berated, keeping his eyes fixed on the crowd. Karp's days of training as a soldier had left him so many nights to think about what he was doing, to accept it. Because when you fought as a rebel, you never came back.

"Sorry, Karp," Shell said, biting her lip. "It was just to ease the tension a little. Sorry if I offended you, though."

Karp shook his head, "It's fine. Come on, let's get going."

As we set off towards the stage, I let out a quiet shriek. Someone had managed to step on the hem of my dress, leaving me unbalanced. Blood splattered from the many puddles that drenched the streets when I tried to regain my balance, but I could only flail around madly. I felt my brother catch my elbow, steadying me. "Thanks, Karp," I muttered, keeping my head ducked to look at my skirt. I would never get these stains out now, would I? Just brilliant.

I realised that my brother's grip was starting to hurt my arm quite painfully now, and I looked up at him, his fingers biting my arm. "Karp! What is it?" I barked, the bruised from the war still painful when he pressed down. "Karp!"

My brother's gaze was transfixed on the stage, his legs firmly planted on the sandy ground. Shell came over, frowning. "What is it?" she asked him gently, and he simply pointed at the stage. We both followed his arm, and our jaws dropped.

Flitting around on the stage was some sort of woman. Her hair was gold - not blonde, or yellow, but actual gold. It looked like those small, fine chains you could get from District One. Her eyes were huge - the size of the shape I made when I touched my forefinger and thumb together at the tips - and bright blue, the colour of paintings children did of the sea. Then came her birds' perch nose, and her huge blue lips, all placed together on a face as white as porcelain. She was beautiful. Like some unearthly creature that had come down to bless us. I wondered whether the firing squad had attacked us, and we were all dead and in heaven.

"Is that an angel?" whispered a small voice from below me, "or a fairy?"

I glanced down at my feet, and saw tiny Magdalene Mantee staring up at the woman in wonder. I reached down, and heaved the five year old onto my hip, where she gripped at my waist with her tiny, pudgy hands. I saw that she was wearing Rosalie's dress, and I could feel the tears already beginning to burn in my eyes. Rosalie was Magdalene's cousin, and she had died in the Dark Days. Starved to death, in a darkened room when their mother had left. My family took Magdalene under our wing after that.

"So, Magda, let's get ourselves into that crowd, huh?" I whispered in her ear, and she giggled happily. I waved good bye to my brother, and we started off together - Magda, Shell and I - towards where a crowd was gathering, near the front of the stage. I was about to head towards them, when I felt something restrict my waist.

A peacekeeper had thrown his arm out, blocking my access. "You'll have to sign up, miss. Regulation, and all," he said in a gruff voice. I shrugged, and twirled the pen he handed me between my fingers. "Last name, first name, middle name - in that order," he said, handing pens to Magda and Shell, then started off down the line.

"Heckstone, Karri, Marina," I muttered, my face colouring. How I hated my middle name. Marina. It was too girly for me, and far too Capitol. I much preferred the sensible names of my neighbours, like Annie Gull, and Billy Costa. Sadly, my family seemed to like having names that match, so Karri, Karp, Karnina and Kalvin Heckstone (my cousins) were doomed to a life of ridicule.

I pushed away from the table after filling in my birthday and name, gathering my friends up around me. Together, we headed towards the seats we had been pushed to. Shell was allowed to stand next to me during this 'Reaping', but Magdalene was lead away to a group of children younger than us. We waved goodbye with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen?" called a voice, and a piercing noise followed it. We all shrieked and covered our ears, expecting one of those sonic-wave weapons that had been rumoured about during the Dark Days. Instead, all we heard were a few choice swear words, and some microphone static. "Ladies and gentlemen of District Four! My name is Philomene Esquire, and I have been elected by the Capitol to inform you about the Hunger Games, an experience that you just cannot miss."

A wave of muttering and twittering came of the crowd as what she said sank in, "A game?" whispered Shell in confusion. "The Capitol wants us to play a game?"

"It is as punishment for your deeds during the Dark Days, when you fought against us and lives were lost-"

Ah, this sounded more like what I had been expecting.

"-so, you will be asked to submit your name into the Reaping. We'll go into messy details like the Tesserae later - let's cut straight to the fun bit!"

I looked around at the crowd dubiously. We didn't seem all that enthusiastic.

"Now - what happens is this. To show their forgiveness, and that they repent what they've done, every district will be asked to submit two children - one girl, one boy - to the Hunger Games, where they will be known as 'Tributes'. At which, they will fight each other, overcome obstacles, and learn how to become a stronger, better person. The winner and their District will be showered with riches. The losers will, ah... be returned to their families." She grimaced slightly when she tripped up on the sentence, but no one was paying much attention. A game! This was the best punishment we could ever hope to receive!

"Now, let us begin the Reaping. Men first, this time. You girls can go first next year," Philomene Esquire's hand dipped into the small glass bowl, making a big show of waving her hand around, moving to snatch a name, and then pull back last minute. Finally, she pulled a slip of paper out, and unfolded it with great care. We stood with bated breath, staring at the paper.

"Karp Heckstone!"

The crowd roared, slapping my brother on the back, shoving him up onto the stage. 'Win for us,' they yelled at him, 'make us proud!'. My brother accepted their praise with stuttered thanks, and hauled himself up onto the stage. Philomene Esquire made him wave for a bit, and then had him answer a few questions. "So, Karp Heckstone, how old are you?"

"Fourteen, ma'am," Karp announced, ducking his head. Good boy, Karp. Manner's will get you far.

"Wonderful. And what do you do?"

"I weave nets."

"Glorious," smiled Philomene Esquire, and she moved over to the girl's bowl. Her hand swooped around the edges, putting on the same show as she did with the boys. Eventually, she dove into the middle, yanking a name from the bottom of the glass - we saw her blue fingernails scrape against the cool bottom.

"Shell Cresta!"

Shell's eyes widened as she moved up, heading towards the stage in a daze. Oh, poor thing. She was so looking forward to this year. She was getting a puppy next week, and performing her school play. I looked up at my brother, who was extending a hand to her, when I felt my mouth open to yell. My brother was going to win easily. He would be victorious, but not without me - I realised this just as Shell was reaching the stage. Shell had a life ahead of her - her father was one of the District officials. She had her future planned out, bit by bit. Marriage, child, mother. I had to take my chances when they came. I should be the one to stand beside my brother when we won these Games, not her.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as Tribute!" My mouth was moving without me making it, but I didn't mind.

"Can she do that?" asked someone behind me, and I heard someone groan. Philomene Esquire, however, trotted to the edge of the stage to whisper to Shell, who flashed me a grateful look.

"Dearie, do you want to compete in the games?" she asked Shell, "you have more say than a Volunteer."

Shell stared at Philomene Esquire, wide eyed. "No, ma'am. It's just that, well, I think Karri's a bit more suited to this than I am, ma'am."

Philomene Esquire shrugged, and one of the peacekeepers swapped me with Shell. "Well, miss - who might you be?"

"Karri. Karri Heckstone," I grinned, waving at the crowd.

"Oh? You look like a copy of Karp over here - you're not related, are you?" Philomene Esquire asked, smiling at us with a 'I-know-you-actually-are-but-the-audience-doesn't' sort of smile.

Karp came over to grab my hand, and he smiled at Philomene Esquire with a matching grin, "My twin, actually."

Philomene stared at us. For a moment, a look of the utmost tragedy and pity flew across her face, but then she was smiling. "You wouldn't let your brother have all the glory?"

"Yeah - I wanted to be there when District Four hauls home the top prize!" I called, and the crowd cheered.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N - Well, it starts to pick up a bit here... Still nothing about the Games yet, though.**

* * *

_Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say._  
_I never want to let you down or have you go, it's better off this way._

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

We walked through the path to the Justice Building, my hand clenched within his. My brother grinned at me, swinging our hands as though we were toddlers again. "We are so winning this thing," he crowed, and I nodded.

"We'll be Karri and Karp - Winners Extraordinaire!" I laugh, spinning around. "And we'll get a nice little house for the family, food, visits the Capitol! We'll be living the life!"

"Buy out that new toy shop on Fourth Street for Magda!"

"Get that new trident - the one with the jewels on the end, the leather grip and gold prongs!"

"Get an actual pet!"

"Real clothes!"

"Food that's not seafood!"

We stop, considering the last option. That actually sounded... amazing. The taste of fish, day in, day out, was bland. We laughed, grinning at the incredulity of this. There was no way we wouldn't win this game, but even so, it was often a jinx to think you'd succeed.

"You, girl!" My head jerked up at the Peacekeeper's call, and I disentangled my hand from my brother's. "You're in room seventeen. You're in the room opposite. Go on," he nudged us with his hand, "get on!"

We licked our lips nervously. Peacekeepers still scared us, the Revolution having only ended a few month back. I waved at Karp nervously, sliding into room seventeen. The second I got there, I was attacked.

"Karri!"

Shell threw herself at me, and I buckled under the weight of her in my arms. She hugged me tightly, grinning. We swung like that for a bit, and she giggled when we stopped.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" she cried, placing her hands on my shoulders. "I had that wedding to go to - and my first date, and the-" I placed my hand over her mouth to silence her, and squealed when she licked it.

"Ew! Shell!" I giggled, wiping it on my shirt. "Grow up, Shelly!" I stopped scowling playfully at her to address the levity of the situation. "Hey, that's why I volunteered. I mean, all I have on this year is an exam that I know I'm going to fail, and over a hundred fishes to spear. I'll be fine."

"Thank you, Karri. Really. This means so much to me, you know." Shell squeezed my hand in support, and opened the door to Magda.

"Karri!" she screamed, running to me. I sighed, today would be a long day.

"Hey, Maggie," I laughed, and she pouted angrily.

"Don't call me that! Maggie's a baby name!" she frowned, clawing her way to sit on my knee. "I want a new name?"

"What name do you want then, kiddo?" I asked, bouncing her up and down as she giggled.

"Mags. Mags is a nice name - Karp calls me Mags!" she smiled grabbing my hair, twisting the strands between her fingers. "Mags Mantee - Victor of the Hunger Games!"

"Hmmm... Doesn't sound bad. Mags," I rolled the name on my tongue. "Yeah, I like it!"

She grinned triumphantly, and hands me a small biscuit, "Here. For you. Eat it for good luck," she ordered. I nodded solemnly, and wolfed it down. Mags was the baker's daughter, and she could bake extremely well. However, I had a hunch that this certain biscuit had been baked by her father.

"Good luck, Karri. Win the Games for me - no matter what!"

I saluted her playfully as she left the room - but I took the message she gave me to heart. I was winning these Games, my brother by my side.

"Karri!"

It took everything to not groan when my mother entered the room, completely in tears. "Karri, what have you done? What have you done, baby, what have you done?"

I blinked at her, "What?"

She fell to her knees, and grabbed my hands. I pulled them away from her in disgust. Maybe I should explain - my mother was a rebel. One of the main group. People have no idea how she managed to survive the Capitol's massacre of the main rebels, but I do. She sold out my father in order to stay alive. My mother had contacts all around Panem, and she probably had some stupid rumour about the Games.

"Karri - you are going to die! The Hunger Games, they're not what they seem to be! They-"

_How could I guess?_

"The Hunger Games are our saviour, mother," I snapped, glaring at her. "The Hunger Games will bring pride back to our district, and Karp and I will win." I glared at her angrily. "It's too late to act like the devoted matron, mother. Fourteen years too late, to be exact."

She stared at me, as though seeing me for the first time. Mother sighed, and got up. "If that's what you want, darling."She stopped a few feet away from me, rethinking. "The Hunger Games are dangerous, Freta told me so. Darling, I th-"

"Don't call me that," I muttered, hugging myself. Only Dad ever called me 'darling', and I wouldn't have her tainting his memory. "Get out."

"Karri - I didn't kill Gull..." She seemed to have the ability to read minds, too.

"Get out." I was too tired to think, and too tired to care. She wasn't worthy of even saying Dad's name. "Stop tainting Dad like that. Just... just..." I stopped, frowning. She was trying to push the blame onto someone else again, wasn't she? She was always doing that. "Peacekeepers!" I yelled, and the door burst open. Men in white entered, and took one look at my mother, and then dragged her away. She barely had time to say anything.

I readjusted my chair when Philomene came in again, her make up retouched. "We're getting on a train to see your mentors now, darling." I visibly flinched, and she bit her lip, "Sorry. I call everyone 'darling'," she explained. "It's a high speed train - we should get to the Capitol in a few days. So you should get ready to leave soon," Philomene stood quickly, and I thought I saw a flash of tears as she turned away.

The door opened one more time, and it was Mags again. "I forgot to give you this!" she cried, pushing past Philomene. "Can she wear this to the Games, for good luck?"

Philomene smiled, and pinched Mags' cheek, "Of course she can. It's encouraged for people to bring tokens from their district."

Mags tied a small bracelet around my wrist, smiling. It was twine, the same kind that nets were woven from, with several small cowry shells looped onto it, and on the centre there was a large shell, one of those that took hours of beach combing to scavenge. She lifted my wrist up to the light, judging her handiwork. I smiled at her, fiddling with one of the shells that hung from the edge.

"Thank you, Mags," I whispered, enveloping the young girl in a hug. "This is the best gift ever."

Mags smiled, and grabbed onto my hand with her pudgy fingers, "Remember what you promised - you're going to win this, right?"

I touched Mags' hand, "I promise, Mags. I'll win, no matter what. Karp and I will win this together, or not at all."

Philomene tapped my shoulder gently, startling Mags and I, "It's time to go, sweetie," she said, her perfect nails painted a bright blue, matching her outfit and eyes. I had no idea how someone could colour coordinate her eyes, but Philomene managed it.

I rose slowly, letting go of Mags' hand, "I'll see you very soon. You're going to watch me, remember? I'll be on the television."

Mags gasped in delight, spinning giddily. "You're going to be so famous, Karri!"

I shook my head, heading towards the door, where my brother was waiting. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he had obviously been crying. The second he looked at me, he turned away. I saw he had a leather band around his wrist, with the district seal on it. Probably a gift from mother.

"Let's go, then. We have a big, big day!" cried Philomene, and she set off, her heels clicking against the rough cement.

I turned to the village, looking at it from my vantage point of the Justice Building. I could see a line of new houses, complete with shining lawns and beautiful picket fences. That must be the Victors' Village, where the winners went. Looking over the new plot of land, I saw places that were as home to me as my bedroom - the grass-snake field where I used to play as a child, the small collection of huts where the net weavers lived, the compound of stilt-houses where the fishermen lived.

District Four. I will make you proud.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N - Train time! Yay! **

* * *

_They're gonna clean up your looks_  
_With all the lies in the books_  
_To make a citizen out of you_  
_Because they sleep with a gun_  
_And keep an eye on you, son_  
_So they can watch all the things you do_

_~Teenagers~_

_~My Chemical Romance~_

* * *

_Chapter Three_

* * *

Philomene hurried us into the car, which was to take us all the way to a train. My brother and I were completely in awe, and when the driver started the engine, we both let out a shriek of fear. Philomene laughed quietly at our reactions, and patted my hand consolingly, "Nothing to worry about, dear. Nothing at all."

The fastest I had ever been was when I went out on a boat, my brother and friends pushing against it in an effort to propel me forwards. I caught a wave on the way back to shore, and rode it until I lurched forwards onto the sand. The waves were only that big at Autumn, when the moon was full. But even my speeding waves seemed snail-like in the face of this car, which made the whole scenery of District Four blur around me, and the quiet purr of the engine was almost so animalistic that it seemed the car was going to eat me alive.

When we boarded the train I was almost giddy with excitement. It was huge! A long, thin tube - like and eel, but silver. Philomene entered it quickly, not faltering for even a second on her six-inch heels. I followed behind, not wanting to appear weak when the cameras rolled. I wanted to seem confident and proud; I wanted Panem to know that I'd be their winner.

Philomene stepped into the compartment with an air of boredom and grace. I stopped the second my foot landed on something odd. I glanced down at my shoes, almost half afraid of what I would find there. Instead, I saw that the whole room had been covered in a lush, purple carpet. I nearly squealed.

The whole room had been lavishly decorated. The walls had oak - or, at least I think it was oak - panelling, matching chairs and tables, five plush arm chairs and one large sofa situated around a fire. One huge dinner table ladened with food. I made a bee line for the meal set out, grinning at the amount of food that lay before me.

"Karp, look at this!" I called over my shoulder, plucking a breadstick from a jar, and dipping it in some sort of toxic green paste that smelt of limes and sugar, but tasted of chicken and cheese. I frowned in confusion, sniffing at the paste to confirm my doubts, "Taste some of this for me, will you? It's a bit... odd."

Karp didn't appear at my shoulder, and I scowled angrily, turning around. "Look, all I asked w-"

My brother was crouched in the middle of the room, crying. Tears streamed down from his cheeks and onto the carpet, pooling near his feet. I was frozen, where as Philomene and two other people (a man and a woman) were fawning over my brother.

I walked up to him in confusion, my eyebrows knitting together. "Karp? What are you doing?"

The man who had been consoling Karp turned to me, shaking his head. "He's doing what every kid in their right mind should be doing - he's going into shock!"

I squared my shoulders, glaring at him defiantly, "Karp doesn't cry. What have you given him?" I peered around the old man to clasp Karp's hand. "C'mon, nitwit, what have you done?"

"It's not a matter of what he's done, it's about what you've done." He shook his head, messing up his light blonde hair. His eyes were piercing and blue, and I shuddered involuntarily - they were like shards of glass, cutting and cruel. He gave of an air of aristocracy, with long hair and high cheekbones, his pointed chin accentuated by a long, black coat. He was the picture of being too rich, and having absolutely no where to give the money. I immediately resented him, deeply.

I blinked at the man in confusion, completely confused. "What do you mean, 'what I've done'?"

He stared at me for a moment, as though trying to see right through me, "You mean, you don't know?"

I frowned, "I don't know what?" I asked, staring at him questioningly, and then at the woman behind him. "What am I missing?"

The man turned to Philomene, his face red with rage. "Are you trying to tell me, Esquire, that you told them nothing?" he roared, bits of spittle flying from his mouth in his anger. Philomene cowered, and I felt a surge to protect her.

"Hey! She didn't do anything!" I cried, moving to stand protectively in front of Philomene.

"Exactly. She didn't do anything. Which is precisely why I am angry at her." The man shot Philomene a glare, and the cowering woman whimpered behind me. "Which I suppose leaves me to tell you what has happened," he bit out.

I stared at him incredulously, "What? What's happened?"

He sighed, and gestured to the sofas. "You may want to sit down for this. It's a lot to take in."

I shrugged, looking up at him defiantly, "Just say it, get it over with," I said, keeping one eye on my brother the whole time. Philomene was swiping his eyes with a tissue.

"The Hunger Games. Your brother certainly knows all about them - so why don't you? Philomene certainly failed to inform the crowd about the dangers, but then how did Karp know everything about it?" He glared at me, trying to read my facial expression.

"I don't know. I guess mother told him about it, and not me," I omitted the part where I refused to listen to my mother - he didn't need to know that.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Well. The Hunger Games was a law devised by the Capitol. In order to show the Districts that they are not forgiven for the rebellion, the president has commissioned the annual Hunger Games, where children aged twelve to eighteen will fight to the death in the arena."

I stared at him, letting out a desperate half laugh, expecting a punch line. But I got none, just the pale, weather worn face of a man I didn't know. "You're... you're not joking, are you?"

"Do I look as though I'm joking?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I shook my head, "No, sir," I said, and sank to the floor, gathering the carpet in my fists. "Oh, god..." I said, staring up at him. "Will I have to kill them?"

"Yes. You will," he muttered, and shook his head. "That's why the Capitol love you, kid." The man promptly turned, and made his way over to the dining table.

"What? Why do they love me?" I call after him, wiping the tears away with my sleeve, and start to follow. I'm directly behind him when I realise how much taller than me he is, but I don't give up. "Why do they love me?" I whisper.

"Because you volunteered. Next to your brother," he looked at me with an expression of finality mixed with pity. The severity of the situation sank in.

In order to not die, in order to return home, in order to keep up my promise, I would not only have to murder twenty three other children in cold blood, but I would have to kill my brother too.

I whirl, turning on Philomene in a blind rage, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say something?" I yelled, scaring the woman.

"What was there to say?" she whimpered, and I cried angrily, lashing out at a wall in pure rage.

"Don't Volunteer? Don't join up to kill your brother?" I asked, mimicking her Capitol accent

poorly. But it didn't matter, the desired effect was reached.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, burying her head into her hands. "It's just my job!"

"Oh, and an apology is going to help me so much when I'm forced to kill people for entertainment!" I barked, and sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm sorry, Philomene. It's... it's just a lot to take in at the moment. I'm not angry at you."

I look at Karp, who wiped his nose clean on his cotton sleeve, "Look - we go down together, or not at all," I whispered, tugging him closer to me. We stood there, in a room full of strangers, trying to hold in tears.

He sighs against my neck, and whispered, "I'm not going to kill you, Karri."

I blanche at the thought of those twenty two others, others who I would either kill, or be killed by. I could almost taste the rusty blood on the tip of my tongue, and I wrinkled my nose. "Nor I you, Karp. We're pulling through this. We're going in, and we go down together."

Was it natural for children to accept their death this easily? We stood there with our arms about each other, calmly discussing the fact that sometime in the next month, both of us will die. I could see it now - a flying axe from District Seven, or a pick from District Twelve, or even a hammer and chisel from District Two. What did District Four have to defend themselves with? Nets and fish, that's what. I was not lasting long in these Games, I knew that.

"How touching, but we really need to get on track," called the man. I looked up at him, and glared at him angrily.

"Emotional moment. We've just realised that we're going to die," I bit out at him, and Philomene chuckles weakly.

"Yes, dying. Extremely momentous," he waved his hand around, and I was possessed with the sudden urge to attack him, "however, my job is to keep you alive." He smiled at us wolfishly, and tossed an olive into his mouth, smacking his lips.

I glared at him angrily, and push forwards towards him, "Excuse me, who are you? You can't just waltz in here, telling us that you suddenly have complete power over whether we choose to live or die!"

"Actually, I can," he corrected, and smiled again. I repressed the urge to shudder. "My name is Caul. I've been employed by the Capitol to train you, and make sure that you last through the first night of the Games."

"I'm Lilana, Caul's mentoring partner. We'll make it our responsibility that the Capitol absolutely loves you, and donates gifts to you during the Games," Lilana smiled at us. She had pretty white teeth, long blonde hair and bottle green eyes. I felt completely benevolent towards her, and actually smiled back, though I suppose it seemed a bit like a grimace.

Caul turned away from us, and made his way to the armchair near the television. He gestured for us to join him, and we sat down on the chairs. The material was lovely, all soft and comforting as it practically cocooned me. Caul jabbed the on button, and the huge screen flickered to life.

"Hello, and welcome to Coelus Dane's!" The talk show host was bubbly and enigmatic, with dark black hair he had teased up into a quiff, light brown eyes and just the hints of stubble. "So, it's time for the biggest, greatest time of the year! It's what we've all been waiting for - the Hunger Games!"

I was sickened by the crowd's reaction.

"So, do you want to see our contestants?" he called, and the audience cheered again. "So, here they are! The Reapings!"

The screen pulled a whirlwind transition, and I saw a crowd standing in front of a stage. This, I reasoned, was District One. The escort loped across the stage, and pulled out two names with minimum fuss.

"Shine Ferwell," he called out into the crowd, and a young girl stepped forwards onto the stage. She seemed terrified. Evidently, their escort did a better job of explaining the rules than Philomene did.

"Febris Satu," he drawled, and a strong boy stepped up, his cocky smile evident. The girls cooed at him.

And they whisked us through the districts, all the while some upbeat backing track playing as though this were some sort of comedy. I barely registered the contestants, my killers. A few stuck out in my mind, those that Caul pointed out to us for us to remember, "Watch out for these ones," he said. A wiry but strong boy from two, and a reasonably strong looking girl. The tributes from three seemed weak and tired, but that seemed like they could be hiding something - District Three was technology, and those two could be sneaky and intelligent.

I winced when I came on screen, and the whole theatre screamed with pity. The girl that

volunteered, the ignorant child, the one that's doomed her family. I was not amused. Caul chuckled as the crowd cooed at me and my brother, and I stood up roughly.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, and Caul looked up at me lazily.

"You're here to learn your enemy. Unlike me, you don't have a career riding on some scrawny kid winning, so sit down and watch." Caul turned away from me, and stared at the screen again. I stared at him in pure shock, and felt my brother tug me back down onto my seat. I barely registered the other tributes, but I could just make out that everyone from the outlying districts were scrawny and weak.

They flashed photos again on screen, and I caught the wolfish smile of the boy from two. I shuddered when I saw his deadly grin. The name 'Hanar Aquilo' flashed across in block letters, and I could see that, staring at his cold blue eyes that were trained on the camera, like a predator assessing his prey, his jet hair falling around his face, he was not someone to trifle with. He, unlike the other tributes, seemed absolutely overjoyed. Not in the way that I was, happy to grasp at the chance of freedom. The smile that played over his lips was cruel. He was looking forward to this - he wanted to kill. I could see him now - hacking and slaughtering and stabbing, killing with ruthless efficiency that everyone else lacked. We would fall like ten pins.

Hanar Aquilo of District Two would be my murderer.


End file.
